Illusions of the Past
by kenthomas
Summary: Hermione and Draco accidentally travel back in time, where they discover that sometimes, it's just best not to try to change history. Especially when it involves Voldemort.
1. 1 The Beginning

**Illusions of the Past**

**Summary: Hermione and Draco accidentally travel back in time, where they try to stop Tom Riddle from opening the Chamber of Secrets. But they soon learn that whoever tries to change history, messes it up instead. And Hermione never reckoned on falling in love either...**

**AN: This fic is based on a concept that was on one of the television programmes that I used to watch. It's local in Singapore (as in not international) so I doubt that not many people will know about it. Anyway, I credit the producers of this programme, _Wok of Life_, the concept is really interesting. I don't own the characters, or the basic concept of the story... Only the storyline details.

* * *

**"I'm serious, why don't you just go for it?"

"I can't _just _go for it, Ron, it'll be like commiting suicide."

"Harry, you like the girl, just go ahead and tell her that you like her."

"And…?"

"She might just say that she likes you too! Oh, come on, the famous Harry Potter… You've been so popular, which girl wouldn't want to go out with you?"

"I dunno… But what if she doesn't like me?"

"Then…" Ron considered his answer. "You're screwed," he concluded.

Hermione smiled to herself as she listened to Ron and Harry argue as usual, over Harry's crush on Cho. Harry was getting redder and redder by the minute, while Ron was looking quite bewildered at Harry's less-than-encouraging reaction.

"Guys, come on," she said finally. "Let me have a peaceful breakfast, can't you? Plus, we'll be having the O.W.L.S. this year and you guys need to concentrate on your studies as well."

Ron started to say something, but was cut short by the loud fluttering of wings: the post owls had arrived at the Great Hall. A barn owl landed in front of Hermione carrying her copy of the _Daily Prophet_, while Hedwig came down to Harry, clutching a note in her beak.

"Hey, Hagrid wants us to go down to his place for tea later," Harry announced, reading the note.

"Okay then," Hermione said, paying the owl. Just as the owl took off, a black owl took its place.

"Hey, a black owl," Ron exclaimed. "Those are really rare, you know. What's it carrying?"

The black owl was clutching a small package in its claws. Hermione took it, and the owl flew off at once. Inside was a small red box, with a folded piece of paper. She opened the box first.

"Wow."

It was a necklace, made of a fine silver chain. The pendant was a small pale blue orb that shone and glittered in the light. It was really… well, beautiful.

"Who's that from?" Ron asked, reaching for the note that came with it. "Let me see – Shit!"

Ron had accidentally knocked over his glass of pumpkin juice. The orange spread steadily over the tablecloth – and over the note. Hermione sighed and plucked out the wet parchment from the juice. "Oh, Ron…"

"I'm so sorry…" Ron righted his glass, but the damage was done. "Can you fix it?"

"Yeah, don't worry… Oh, no…" Hermione looked at the note. The parchment was now dry, but stained bright orange. It was impossible to read the writing now. She sighed again. "Don't worry about it, Ron, it doesn't matter. And," she concluded, "we have to get to Potions or risk spending the rest of the year in detention with Snape."

&&&&

"That necklace looks really nice on you, Hermione," Ron said, as the three of them walked down the school grounds to Hagrid's. The Whomping Willow swayed its branches threateningly as they passed it.

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione responded, feeling herself go pink. She touched the blue pendant at her neck. "I think it was probably my parents, I just remembered that they were going to Italy, and they promised to get me something from there."

"Well, they have really good taste," Harry said admiringly. "Anyway… Oh, not him again."

Draco Malfoy appeared from behind a tree as they approached Hagrid's hut. "Going to visit that oaf friend of yours?" he sneered.

"That doesn't concern you, Malfoy," Harry snarled. "Now move aside."

"Gits like him can't be spoken to that way, Harry," Ron said, pulling out his wand. "They need to learn the hard way. Now get lost, Malfoy, or I'll hex you."

"I'll take that challenge." Malfoy pulled out his wand too. He shouted out a spell, and a beam of purple light flashed past them, narrowly missing Hermione. Harry shouted angrily, taking out his wand as well.

"You'll pay for that, Malfoy!"

"Oh, I'm sure I will… After I blast you into pieces!"

Hermione sighed inwardly, just as the three boys all shouted out different incantations at the same time. The beams of light from their wands collided in the air, and for a moment everyone froze as the spells formed a violent sphere of blinding light. The sphere spun rapidly, emitting pulses of magic…

"Harry, watch out!"

Hermione lunged forward, her keen eye and instinct seeing what the boys had failed to in their anger. She knocked Harry to the ground, just as a beam of light burst from the ball and hit the exact spot where Harry had been standing. The place where the light had touched burned bright red, then faded away, leaving a circle of blackened grass and dirt.

"Boy, that was close," Harry groaned. "Thanks Hermion – Hermione!"

&&&&

Hermione felt a searing pain on her neck, but just as she reached up to to touch the hurting spot, the pain disappeared, replaced by a weird floating sensation. The feeling spread to her whole body, and she felt as if she had been lifted off the ground by some invisible, magical force. Her vision blurred into distorted images, sound became incomprehensible, but she vaguely heard a familiar voice shouting…

_Malfoy?_ She thought in confusion. _You there?_ She tried to shout out, but couldn't even hear her own voice… She couldn't even feel her feet on solid ground anymore. It was as though she was being hurled through the air, but with no sensation of movement, only an odd, floating feeling that just didn't seem right.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it all ended. Hermione felt herself standing on firm ground again, and she gasped as everything around her came back into focus. She felt immensely winded, as though she had been running, but there was no tiredness. Dazed, her knees went weak and she fell down to a kneeling position. She quickly pushed herself up, blinking several times.

As her vision refocused, she saw that Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her, looking equally dazed and confused. He rubbed his forehead, glaring at her. She glared back, but felt her head explode into pain. Apparently whatever that had happened to her, it hadn't done any benefit to her head.

"Harry, Ron, you guys okay? Hey, guys?" Hermione stared around her. Her two friends were nowhere around her. As the matter of fact, she and Malfoy were alone in the grounds. The place was completely deserted.

"What happened?"

Hermione turned to Malfoy. "If I knew what had happened I wouldn't look so confused, Malfoy," she snapped. "Stay here, I'll go to Hagrid's for… help." Her voice trailed off as she realised that the familiar hut that had just been in sight was no longer there. Taken aback, she ran forward, wildly looking around. In the end, she just had no other choice but to conclude that the hut was simply not there.

She whipped around to face Malfoy. She frowned as she observed the Hogwarts landscape behind him. Something very obvious was missing…

"The Whomping Willow," she gasped in shock. "The Whomping Willow… Where is it?"

"What are you talking about, Mudblood?" Malfoy snapped at her. "Are you just plain out of your mind or-"

"Turn around," Hermione insisted. "See that small hill over there? Isn't the Whomping Willow supposed to be there?" She pointed to the spot where she knew the vicious tree was supposed to be growing.

Malfoy stared at the spot for a long time, as if he wasn't really seeing it. Then he slowly turned around on the spot, staring at everything around them. Finally, he turned back to Hermione, an odd look on his face.

"What time is it?"

"What?" Hermione said, annoyed.

"What time is it?" Malfoy repeated in the same maddening tone.

Hermione scowled. She checked her watch, a bright red one with black stripes. "Four," she said, watching as the second hand crept on with a click. Then, suddenly the hand stopped moving altogether, as if it had frozen. "That's funny, I thought I just had a new battery put in during the summer." She shook her hand, trying to get it to move again, but nothing happened.

"Four…" Malfoy looked at something in the distance. "If it's four…"

"Get out of it, will you?" Hermione looked at him irritatably. "What's the matter?" She was starting to seriously get pissed off with his indifferent attitude.

"Look at that." Malfoy pointed at something at one of Hogwart's towers. Hermione stared at it. It was a giant circular clock, with equally large bronze hands. One hand was pointing at a large golden 6, while the shorter one was pointing at the space in between the golden 8 and 9.

"Eight-thirty," Hermione said slowly. "Hey, since when was there a clock on that tower?"

"Good question," Malfoy said, nodding. "I don't remember any clocks on the school towers either."

"I think we had better get back in the castle, we can try to find someone who might be able to clear things up with us." Hermione started to stride to the castle, not even bothering to check if Malfoy was following her. As she walked, she looked around her, and was more and more surprised when she saw that things were different… somehow. There were trees, shrubs and flowers that she had never seen before, while the ones she was familiar with were missing.

"Hey! Hey, Granger, wait up!"

Malfoy fell into step beside her. He was also looking around with the same confused expression. "Where do you think everyone's gone? The place's completely deserted."

"Look, if I knew the answer then I would have said something about it, right?" Hermione snorted.

"Well, since you're such a know-it-all…"

"Malfoy, I'm warning you… Keep your mouth shut!"

"Oh, damn, and here I thought a certain Mudblood here was smart…"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

Hermione whipped around, her wand out. "Why can't you just stop bugging me?"

"I was going to ask you that myself." Malfoy looked quite calm, even with Hermione pointing her wand directly at him. "And I know for sure that you definitely won't kill me or anything so that doesn't scare me."

"And what makes you so sure?" Hermione challenged, feeling her anger rise so high that she felt she was going to explode anytime soon.

"Because, as sad as I am to admit it… You'll need my help going back."

"Going back _where_?" Hermione snapped, thrusting her wand closer, until its tip was touching Malfoy's neck. Malfoy stepped back with a knowing smirk, pointing at something on the wall.

It was the golden plaque that gave the date and exact time, to tenths of a second, in magical black numbers. Hermione stared at it, feeling as if something very hard had hit her in the back of the head. The time _looked_ okay, but there was something wrong with the date.

They had just travelled back in time – 55 years.

&&&&

"Great, so now we're in the past?!" Hermione's voice ended up in a higher pitch in her panic. She knew that the plaque never gave the wrong date and time, and at the moment the date, which listed the year as 1942, said very clearly that they had somehow gone back in time 55 years. "How the heck did that happen?! How on earth are we supposed to get back?!"

"That's a really good question," Malfoy said, his voice losing its usual snide tone. He looked around, frowning slightly. Then, something clicked in his expression and he suddenly started to stride out of Hermione's sight.

"Hey, where are you going?" Hermione demanded. "We have to stay together, in case something happens!" Malfoy didn't answer, instead continuing on his way without a backward glance. Hermione pursed her lips. "Jerk," she muttered darkly. She considered going after him, but she just felt so irritated at his attitude that she wasn't in the mood to deal with him without using any curses or jinxes.

She wondered what to do. Maybe go for help? But who could help her? At the most, she would have to explain that she came from the future, something that would be hard to convince others. What if she was mistaken for a criminal on the run –

"Damn," she mumbled. Then something hit her. Dumbledore! Dumbledore was such a powerful wizard; surely he would have heard of accidental time travel, and would be able to help them get back to their own time. But how could she find him?

_This long ago, Dumbledore wasn't Headmaster yet; he was a teacher – the Transfiguration professor! He should be in the Transfiguration classroom, or the staffroom!_

Hermione walked slowly into the castle, looking around to make sure that there was no one around. It would have been very hard to explain who she was when she didn't even exist in this time. She didn't meet anyone in the Entrance Hall, or the Great Hall. The place was almost silent, with students all in classes. Hoping that she wouldn't run into a teacher, she ran to the stairs leading to the staffroom.

The double doors of the staffroom was just ahead, flanked by two big stone gargoyles. They yawned and fixed their grey eyes onto Hermione.

"Ooh, student out of class," one gargoyle observed keenly. "What do you want?"

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore," Hermione explained quickly. "It's a really urgent matter, is he in the staffroom?"

"Good question." The second gargoyle smirked annoyingly at her. "What do you think?"

Hermione sighed. She was all too familiar with the unhelpful attitude of most of the Hogwarts ghosts and gargoyles in her own time; it was quite easy to believe that their attitude wasn't anything new, even more than fifty years ago. "Please, this is really urgent. I really need to see Professor Dumbledore now. If he isn't in the staffroom, then just tell me and I'll go look for him myself."

She was cut short when a loud, deep sound of a bell rang throughout the castle, marking the end of a lesson period. The gargoyles considered her for a while, before one finally admitted that Dumbledore was in class. Hermione didn't bother to thank them, and quickly turned away, deciding to head over to the Transfiguration classroom. The only problem was, the classroom was quite a distance away. Getting there would certainly mean that she would definitely meet someone along the way, and the last thing she wanted to do was to change history...

_Change history? That's it!_

It was the year when Tom Riddle opened up the Chamber of Secrets. If she could somehow stop him... Hermione gritted her teeth. That was it. Whatever she was going to do, she was going to do her best to stop Tom Riddle before she went back - and maybe even stop him from becoming Lord Voldemort!

_But... How?_

&&&&

**I don't know if that was a good first chapter. And I'm working on the next chapter of Kindergarten Trouble, don't worry...**

**R&R**


	2. Chapter 2

**Illusions of the Past**

**Chapter 2**

**I think that I might have got the time frame a bit off... Hope you don't mind, because at the moment I'm feeling too lazy to repost it, especially since I sort of messed up my fic files... Heh.**

**&&&&**

Hermione recognised many features of Hogwarts as she had known it, but there were many other things that were unfamiliar to her as well. The tapestries, suits of armour, and statues looked relatively new, while the walls in some places had been painted a different colour. However, she was in no mood to appreciate the different scenery – she was more concerned about her current situation.

Although she had briefly been determined to do something about Tom Riddle when she had realised that he would be a student in this time, now all she felt was ridiculous for thinking that she could do anything when she was stuck more than fifty years in the past. But now all she could think about was how she was going to find Dumbledore, explain her problem, and get back before she lost any revision time for the O.W.L.s.

The Transfiguration classroom was just ahead… Students were slowly pouring out of it, chatting and joking. Hermione hastily ducked behind a secret passageway concealed behind a tapestry. Fortunately, none of the students noticed her, all of them continuing on their way. When she was at last positive that there was no other student left, she slipped out and cautiously approached the classroom door.

Much to her relief, Dumbledore was there, rearranging stacks of books and parchment on his table. She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

Dumbledore looked up. He looked much younger than Hermione had ever known him. "Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush. "I need your help."

Dumbledore carefully observed her from behind his glasses. "And you are…?"

"Granger. Hermione Granger." Hermione took a deep breath again, to calm herself down. Not working. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm from the future, the year 1994. I don't know how I traveled back to the past – I mean your time – but I have to get back. Can you help me?"

Dumbledore looked mildly impressed in the oddly eccentric way Harry had described to Hermione before. "You mean that you have traveled back in time? That is interesting… So can I conclude that in your own time, you are aquainted with me?"

"Well, yes, you're-" Hermione stopped herself just in time. Having used a Time Turner in her third year, she had been warned about the risks of changing history. Which meant that she was not supposed to tell Dumbledore about his future self, no matter what she did. "Well, you're a Hogwarts teacher," she said lamely.

"I can see that you're wearing the Hogwarts uniform," Dumbledore said gently. He gestured to a chair, indicating to Hermione to sit. She did, rather anxiously.

"So can you help me, Professor?" Hermione asked quickly.

"There are many ways of traveling through time, and the commonest way is by using a Time Turner. But the Time Turner would not be enough to bring someone so far through time. However, I can reasonably say that the safest way for you to return to your own time is by going back the way you came. How did you end up here?"

"Er…" Hermione thought back to what she had been doing before she had somehow come here. She had been with Harry and Ron, when Malfoy had attacked them. Then… Then something odd had happened, and she had ended up here…

"Harry – I mean two of my friends, were duelling with someone, and there was some sort of explosion… If I remember correctly, the light from the wands collided and collected in the air like a huge ball of light. Then the ball was blasting out bolts of light at everyone, and when I realised what had happened I was already here."

"That certainly does sound interesting." Dumbledore started pacing up and down. Hermione wished he wouldn't; he was making her nervous as well. "Do you have any idea how you came to travel to this time?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not a clue."

"You weren't carrying with you, something that could have caused it? A Time Turner, perhaps?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Then this will be quite a hard problem." Dumbledore stopped directly in front of her. "I'm sorry that I cannot help you immediately. I will try to find a solution to your problem, but in the meantime I hope you can be patient enough."

"That's okay," Hermione said, slightly relieved, slightly disappointed. "Do you think, in the meantime, I can stay here? In Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "I think I should be able to arrange something for you. By the way, what year are you in? I think that it will be quite hard to help you solve your problem, especially since you don't know how you came here, and it will take quite some time. If you are willing to continue your education in this time, by the time you get back you won't have wasted any time."

"That's good," Hermione said, hugely relieved. She had been worrying that she would miss out on her revision time to prepare for the O.W.L.s – why does this have to happen now?!?!? – and Dumbledore's suggestion seemed to have given her one half of the answer that she wanted. "I'm in my fifth year…"

"Ahh, O.W.L year," Dumbledore said. "So I guess you won't mind if I arrange for you to join in the fifth year classes, to keep up with your studies?"

"Of course not," Hermione said quickly.

"That settles it," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "If you can just give me your personal details and a list of subjects that you're taking…"

&&&&

Draco Malfoy slowed down as he approached the place where the greenhouses were. To his surprise, the Mudblood hadn't been following him. Suited him perfectly well. She didn't really stike him as the kind of person who would be able to actually figure out a way out of their problem by herself – all the things that she knew could be found in books, and books didn't exactly describe these kind of things much.

Coming from a pure-blood family, Draco had been required to remember all the names of other pure-blood families, to prevent him from mixing in the wrong crowd. And one thing he knew was that in this year, his grandfather Abraxas Malfoy would also be a fifth-year student in Hogwarts… If he could just find Abraxas and convince him of his problem, maybe he could find a way back and not involve anyone else (namely the Muggle-lover Dumbledore).

"Abraxas Malfoy!"

Draco turned around to see a group of rather mean-looking students striding up to him. Glancing around wildly, hoping to see where Abraxas was, he belatedly realised that there was no one else there – and they had mistaken him for his grandfather.

"Look, you've got it wrong-"

"Abraxas Malfoy," the tallest of the boys repeated, flexing his muscles, an odd, twisted grin on his face. "Why didn't you tell us that you were coming back so early? Damn, you could have told us about it!"

Draco stared around in disbelief as the mean looks on the students' face were replaced by broad grins. The one who had greeted him flung an arm around his shoulders warmly, and Draco had a split-second chance to read the name _Tarry Nott_ on his name tag before the boy playfully punched him in the stomach.

"You said you were only coming back after Christmas! Last I checked, it's still October. What happened? The trip to Mongolia got called off?"

"The trip?" Draco was momentarily stunned. "What trip? Oh, you mean that trip. Yeah, it was called off, bad timing," he invented wildly, suddenly deciding to play along with them, pretend to be Abraxas – they did look as though they would be good at duelling, and he was far outnumbered six to one.

"Tarry, don't choke him to death just yet," a rather mean-looking girl said, coming to the front. She grinned at him – although she probably meant the smile to be friendly, Draco couldn't help feeling disgusted all the same. "I still have a lifetime of wedded bliss to look forward to with him."

_A lifetime of what??_ Draco nearly pretended to vomit – and he felt that he _would _vomit. This – _troll_ – is Abraxas's girlfriend? What kind of taste in girls did he have anyway? He stealthily glanced at her name tag. _Olive Hornby. _Hornby was a name of a rather small pure-blood family that was nearly dying out in the male line, butthere was no one named Hornby in his family, so thank the gods, this girl wasn't his grandmother.

"Shut up, Olive, we'll rather be spared all that information, not even the most general of the general details regarding whatever _love-making_ sessions you guys have had, whether in the closet-"

"Actually, it was the broom cupboard."

_Way too much detail. _Draco snorted quietly. As Olive traded a few friendly insults with the only other girl in the group, Draco quickly took the opportunity to read all the name tags on their uniforms. _Tarry Nott – Theodore's relative?, Olive Hornby, Eileen Prince – looked oddly familiar, Vince Crabbe – he definitely knew who that was, Tronus Goyle – and he knew who that was too, and Jeffe Parkinson – Pansy's relative?_

"So, Abraxas, I really missed you," Olive crooned, flinging an arm around him and nuzzling his neck. Draco, shocked, wriggled out of her grasp. She was incredibly strong.

"What?" Olive asked, hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I mean…" Draco looked around wildly for a solution. _Aha_! "A teacher's coming."

The group turned around. A rather plump man was strolling into the castle, singing loudly as he swung a bottle of wine in his hand. Draco's jaw nearly dropped when he recognised him. "Slughorn?"

"Yeah, that's him… What, you forgot how he looks like?" Jeffe Parkinson said. "What are you worried about? Sluggie never turns in Slytherins."

"Rea – Oh, I just couldn't recognise him at this distance," Draco said hurriedly.

"Well then, come on, we're going to be late for Herbology," Eileen said. Her gloomy-looking face seemed to remind Draco of someone close to him, but he just couldn't figure out who.

"Where are your books?" Tarry asked him. "And your bag?"

_Shit. _Draco cursed himself, the highly-observant Tarry, Olive 'troll' Hornby, and pretty much everything else. "I think I must have left it somewhere…"

"Doesn't matter," Eileen said, still with her sulky look. Draco wondered if the expression was permanent on her face. "Didn't Abbot say that today's would just be a practical lesson, no need to bring books? Come on, before we all get detention."

"Abbot's too soft to give students harsh detentions," Olive sneered. "Oh, well, let's go!" And grabbing at Draco's arm, she led the way to Greenhouse Five, tugging possessively on his arm.

&&&&

"So you're Hermione Granger, a fifth-year Gryffindor in fifty-two years time."

Hermione nodded nervously. Professor Dippet, the current Headmaster, looked like a rather genial old man, but she still felt uncertain all the same as she sat awkwardly before him in the Head's office. Dumbledore stood nearby, nodding encouragingly.

"Albus has explained everything to me." Dippet nodded at Dumbledore. "I admit that Albus is a great wizard, and I believe that he is capable of solving your problem, but in the meantime I will arrange for you to continue studying here. The details have been settled. You will present yourself as Hermione Granger, a fifteen-year-old who was previously taught by her parents at home fot the past four years at home, and this will be your first year of formal education. Are you familiar with the rules of time travelling?"

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding. "I must be careful not to do anything that might kill my future self."

"Good," Dippet said approvingly. "I have arange for you to attend the fifth-year classes along with the other fifth-years, and I have sent notes to all the teachers. So you are a Gryffindor?"

Hermione nodded again, then made up her mind. "But Professor, if you don't mind, I would like to be in Slytherin."

Dippet was visibly shocked, and even Dumbledore seemed mildly surprised. Hermione resolutely ignored it. She had already decided – Harry was one of her best friends (nothing more!) – and over the years, alongside him and Ron, assumed the responsibilty of trying to destroy Voldemort. She knew full well the kind of person Tom Riddle had become, and decided that if she could play her part in helping to destroy Voldemort, why not do it? Redefining attacking a problem at its core, she had thought of trying to change Tom Riddle into a better person while she could. No harm in trying.

"You, as a Gryffindor, wish to be in Slytherin?" Dippet questioned.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "There is a reason for this, but I am afraid that I cannot tell you anything about it."

Dippet stared at her for a while, but in the end his gaze softened. "Very well. The Head of Sytherin is Professor Slughorn. He went to Hogsmeade for some wine, and should be coming back any moment now. I have sent a note to him to come here immediately. He will fix up the rest of the details for your stay here with you."

Hermione smiled thankfully at him. "Thank you so much, sir," she said gratefully.

It wasn't until she had finished settling matters with Slughorn and was halfway down to the greenhouses, where she would be taking her first Herbology class in the year 1942, did she realise that she had completely forgotten about Malfoy.

&&&&

**I think it's a bit short. Hope you don't mind, but personally I never really like chapters that go on for too long, makes staring at the computer screen tiring.**

**And I know that the plot I'm using is more cliched that cliched, but I swear that I'll try to make the story as different as possible. Plus, in my fic, Draco Malfoy gets mistaken for Abraxas... I haven't come across that one yet, but if there is one, well, I salute the author. **

**R&R**

**Ken**


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